


Baby You're Worth the Risk

by worrisomeme



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Established Relationship, Firefighter Wade Wilson, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Thor, Photographer Peter Parker, mentions of Sif - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 09:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15457971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worrisomeme/pseuds/worrisomeme
Summary: Ironically enough, Peter’s in Hawaii covering the devastation of the eruptions when he gets the call.He wakes with a start and groans when he looks at the clock. It’s just after 3 AM. What the fuck? Oh! He realizes his phone ringing is what woke him up and scrambles for it. His brow furrows and his heart races when he sees it’s Steve. Something’s wrong.“Is he dead?” he asks, breathless, in lieu of a greeting.Before he and Wade let things get too serious they discussed all of this and the fact that it’s a very real possibility that either of their jobs could get them seriously injured or killed. They’d both spent a lot of time preparing for these kinds of calls. Still, Peter can’t help all the anxious energy bubbling up inside him, the way it makes his hands shake, his chest tight.“He’s alive,” Steve replies evenly and a small wave of relief rushes over him. Still, he can hear how difficult it is for Steve to maintain that evenness.“How bad is it?”





	Baby You're Worth the Risk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ediblecrayon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ediblecrayon/gifts).



> For Ediblecrayon!! I'm _sooooo_ sorry it took so long babe!!! I really hope you like it!!! <3

Ironically enough, Peter’s in Hawaii covering the devastation of the eruptions when he gets the call.

He wakes with a start and groans when he looks at the clock. It’s just after 3 AM. What the fuck? Oh! He realizes his phone ringing is what woke him up and scrambles for it. His brow furrows and his heart races when he sees it’s Steve. Something’s wrong.

“Is he dead?” he asks, breathless, in lieu of a greeting.

Before he and Wade let things get too serious they discussed all of this and the fact that it’s a very real possibility that either of their jobs could get them seriously injured or killed. They’d both spent a lot of time preparing for these kinds of calls. Still, Peter can’t help all the anxious energy bubbling up inside him, the way it makes his hands shake, his chest tight.

“He’s alive,” Steve replies evenly and a small wave of relief rushes over him. Still, he can hear how difficult it is for Steve to maintain that evenness.

“How bad is it?”

His whole body is trembling from the adrenaline. Wade is still hurt enough to have ended up in the hospital, for Bucky to be called. _Jesus, what time is it in New York right now?_ he thinks. _Like, 9 AM or something like that._ He climbs out of bed and flicks on the lights, immediately starting to pack. He’s gotten enough good shots to work with, this trip is going to have to be cut short.

Steve hesitates and Peter pauses at that, then starts moving twice as fast.

“It’s bad,” the blond confirms his suspicions.

“ _How_ bad?” Peter asks again. He zips his suitcase up and grabs the keys for his rental, silently praying to any and every god listening that there’s a flight he can catch leaving  _soon_.

“Third degree burns Pete,” Steve says and Peter can tell he’s chewing his bottom lip by the way it muffles his words, “ _everywhere._ He’s stable, but just. They’ve got him in a medically induced coma for now, so you don’t have to rush back. I know you’re not supposed to be home for almost a week still, right? Me and Buck won’t leave his side, swear. You know we won’t.”

“I’m already on my way,” Peter replies with a shake of his head, despite the fact that his friend can’t see it. “I’ve got enough to make something pretty with, it’s no big deal. I’d rather be there when they wake him up.”

_I’d rather see the damage first,_ he doesn’t say. Steve knows anyway, from personal experience. He had actually been with Bucky when he and Wade were overseas, when Bucky lost his arm and almost his life there. Peter had met Wade later and been spared that level of anxiety. Though he’s clearly got enough of his own with Wade being a firefighter. Bucky had chosen a nice safe career path after his honorable discharge. Well, he can’t be too mad about it. He’d known what he was getting into, and his normally safe career choice of photography puts him in his fair share of danger with the types of stories and pictures he’s ended up chasing, the types of jobs he’s gotten over the years.

“It’s… a lot,” Steve says quietly. Bucky’s voice mumbles in the background, but Peter can’t make the words out. “Just about his entire body got burned. Recovery is going to be long and difficult and dangerous. The doctor said not everyone even makes it through the treatment.” Peter’s heart stops for a second and he freezes, doesn’t even notice when he runs a red light. “I’m not trying to scare you Pete, just to prepare you.”

Peter sucks in a breath and shakes his head slightly, trying to force himself to focus on the road ahead of him. “Yeah, no, I know,” he assures his friend. “Thanks. I  _really_ appreciate it.”

Steve lets out a hum and there’s a moment of silence where Steve takes a sip of something – probably coffee, especially if he did his math right on the time. Then he says, “Sam and T’Challa said they can come get you from the airport, if you want. It’ll be faster than the subway, and you don’t have to pay for a cab. Just text them your flight details when you get them.”

“Are they there with you?”

“No, not yet. They’ve both got work today,” Steve explains. “I told them not to worry about it since he’s not conscious or anything anyway. But they said they’d stop by after work and offered to pick you up if you ended up coming back today. Figured you would, ya know?”

Peter sighs heavily and nods to himself again. “Yeah, okay, you guys are all the best. I hope you know that.”

“We know,” Steve teases, forcing out a quiet laugh. “Just get back safe, okay? We don’t need both of you fucked up in one day.”

“Definitely not,” Peter scoffs. “Who would take care of Wade’s whiney ass?” And that manages to draw a genuine laugh from both of them. “I’m almost to the airport now. I’ll text you all my flight details. Thanks Stevie. Love you guys.”

“I’ll keep you updated too. Love ya Pete.”

Once he hangs up he drops his phone into the cup holder and pushes the speed limit a little more now that this road has all his attention.

 

*

 

The next flight isn’t until 5:30 and Peter goes absolutely nuts between that two hour wait and the 11 hour flight.  Sam and T’Challa do, in fact, pick him up at the airport and that helps just a little, as much as it can. He leaves his bags in T’Challa’s car, bringing only his phone and wallet with him, and books it into the hospital. Bucky and Steve are waiting for him outside the private room Wade’s in and the pair pulls him into a tight hug instantly.

“You need a coffee? Did you sleep on the plane?” Bucky asks, kissing his cheek.

“No, I didn’t. Coffee would be amazing right now,” Peter sighs, running a hand through his hair for the millionth time. He thinks it should be standing almost straight up by now. “Can I go in?” he asks Steve, eyes flitting to the door, as Bucky pats him on the shoulder and dashes off with a soft, ‘be right back’.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve replies and takes his hand, squeezing it gently. “Need us to come?”

Peter takes a deep, steadying breath and shakes his head. “No, I think I gotta do this alone. Wouldn’t want you guys judging me too much when I cry or puke or both.” Chuckles bubble up around the hallway.

“We’re here if you need us,” Sam says and claps him on the shoulder as the laughter dies down.

Peter sucks in another breath and nods once. He slips on a surgical mask and rubs hand sanitizer on any exposed bit of skin, hesitates only a moment before opening the door and stepping into the room. The first thing he notices in the small room is the smell – sterile to a point it makes the rest of the hospital seem like fresh summer air. But that makes sense, he thinks. If Wade’s entire body is wounded and exposed like that, even the slightest infection could be deadly.

He forces himself to stop a few feet from the edge of the bed and to take in the sight of the love of his life like this – so badly hurt and half dead. Wade’s wrapped head to toe in gauze and Peter knows he’s never going to be the same. Fuck. He takes slow breaths to steady himself, but he still can’t stop the tears from falling. No matter how much they’d prepared, it would never have been enough. He could have died, he still could. They’re nowhere near out of the woods yet. And Peter feels so helpless. He can’t even hold Wade’s hand. His body trembles as he’s wracked with silent sobs.

“Wade, I think you can probably hear me,” he manages to get out, his voice timid and shaky, wiping furiously at his eyes. “If you’re not sleeping, I guess. I don’t know. I don’t know how this shit works. I guess I just hope you can hear me.” He has to take just a single step closer, his body moves without him even realizing it. “Man, we thought we were ready for this kind of shit, huh?” he goes on, pushing his hair back out of his face. It falls right back down again. “Well, turns out I’m not. So you’re not allowed to d-die on me, okay? That’s the least you could do after all this, I think.”

And then he can’t say anymore, he’s just crying too hard. His whole body is shaking and he buries his face in his hands, trying to stop the tears or hide them or something. He feels like he can’t breathe, like he’ll never breathe again, not properly anyway. Slowly he takes another step forward and then another. He wraps his arms around his waist and tries to compose himself as he watches the too-subtle rise and fall of the other man’s chest. All it’s really doing, though, is working him up more. He has to talk to a doctor, he has to get out of here.

“I l-l-l-love you,” he manages to stutter out. “I’ll b-be back s-s-soon.” And then he forces himself to turn, his feet to move, to take him back to their friends.

And they’re right there, faces solemn as he emerges from the room still sobbing, ripping the surgical mask off his face and sucking in a gasping breath. Steve and Sam pull him into a hug and Bucky’s easing the cup of coffee into his hands.

“Let’s sit down,” Bucky says softly, gently brushing Peter’s hair back out of his face.

Peter nods and sniffles and wipes at his eyes, though the company around him is starting to settle him a little at least.

Steve keeps an arm linked with his as they lead him to a small section of couches close by, only letting go as Peter drops into an armchair.

“A nurse should be by pretty soon to check on him,” Bucky says, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Last time they said he’s doing really well.”

Peter nods numbly as the tears finally slow and stop. He forces himself to drink the horrible hospital coffee and stares at the weird carpeting. “Does anyone know how it happened?” he asks quietly. “Have they said how long they’re going to keep him in that coma?”

“They’re playing the coma thing by ear,” Bucky replies first, tugging Steve down onto a loveseat with him and pulling him close. “They said they’re looking for some markers in particular and as soon as he makes it to those they’ll take him out of it.”

“He saved another firefighter’s life,” T’Challa answers his first question. “It was all over the news.” Peter’s head whips up at that one. He and Wade have been together long enough that he’s at the very least vaguely familiar with everyone on his crew.

“Do you remember who it was? Are they hurt too?”

“Odinson,” Sam chimes. “This chick from Sweden or somewhere like that.”

Peter’s eyes go wide and he almost crushes the paper cup in his hand. “Fuck! Sif?” he gasps.

“That was it!” Sam points at him. “Pushed her right out of the way of this burning crossbeam that was falling. She’s barely got a scratch on her.”

“Jesus Christ,” Peter breathes, running a hand back through his hair once again. “And he almost died for it.” It comes out sounding more bitter than he means it to. His friends give him a sympathetic look and he’s already expecting a visit from them soon. Sif and her husband Thor both work at the station with Wade and they’re actually fairly close friends. Peter’s hung out with them quite a few times, if only at station events.

“He’ll pull through,” Bucky tries to assure him, nudges what’s left of his left arm in his direction. “We’ve made it through worse.”

“Nothin’s gonna be fuckin’ same,” Peter says, slouching in his seat. He can only imagine the kind of long-term health and pain and sensitivity issues that come with this kind of trauma. “Shit! Is he even going to be able to work again?”

“Not for a long time,” Sam speculates.

“He’s gonna be ugly as sin,” Steve jokes, and that pulls a loud, surprised laugh from Peter’s chest. “That’s what he’d say, anyway.”

“That’s what he’s  _gonna_  say,” Peter finds himself unable to stop the laughter. “Oh god, I can only imagine.”

“Good thing he’s already used to being ugly,” Bucky jokes. And Peter laughs again, and he finally feels his chest starting to loosen, just slightly.

“He’ll say that too.”

 

*

 

Peter’s slouched in a chair next to Wade’s bed, half asleep when the other man croaks out his name, his voice groggy, rough, strained. Peter’s head snaps up and he scrambles for his cup of water.

“Hey you,” he says through the ever-present surgical mask, his own voice shaky as he fights tears. He grabs the cup and holds the straw up to Wade’s mouth. “Here, that throat’s gotta be dry as hell. Try to limit your talking. I know that’s gonna be hard for you.” His tone falls flat on the joke as he finds himself fighting tears yet again. Wade takes a long sip then watches his boyfriend as he sets the cup back on the bedside table when he’s done and settles back into the chair. “You remember what happened?”

“Not really,” he mumbles. Peter can see the pain written on his face. He’s not used to seeing his boyfriend this serious, it’s not a thing that happens often.

“The doctor said that might happen, especially when you first wake up,” he explains. “You saved Sif’s life and got really badly burned.” He feels a single tear escape and mentally curses himself. He said he wasn’t going to cry dammit. “You almost died.”

“I was wondering why I felt like a burnt pork chop,” Wade jokes, though his voice is still strained.

“Dry and crispy?” Peter chokes out a laugh as a few stray tears slip down his cheeks.

“Ya know, that’s why I love you so much,” he teases weakly. “You just  _get me_ babe.”

“You know I do,” the younger man replies softly, his fingers itching to reach out and take his hand. Instead he rests it on the edge of the bed as a moment of quiet settles in.

“Weren’t you in Hawaii?” Wade asks. “ _Fuck._  How long has it _been_?”

“I was, yeah. Steve called me as soon as it happened and I flew back a little early. He and Bucky didn’t leave your side until I got back. It’s been about a week and a half since then.”

The other man’s eyes go wide and he starts a string of curses. “Are you serious?” he asks once that’s out of his system. “How fucking ugly am I now? Is my whole body burned? I can’t feel anything.”

“Yeah, it’s basically your whole body,” Peter replies with a wince. “The doctor will explain it better when he comes in. And you’re not fucking ugly.” Wade opens his mouth but Peter catches himself first, a soft laugh escaping. “Okay, you’re pretty ugly  _right now_. You’re basically a giant scab right now. But once you’re healed you’ll be fine.”

“You hope,” Wade says with a snort.

Peter rolls his eyes as melodramatically as he can manage and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ll still love you even if you end up horribly disfigured,” he says flatly. “Is that what you want to hear? Cuz you already know that. And anyway, you’re going to look fine.”

“We just won’t be able to leave the house ever again,” he jokes.

Peter just rolls his eyes again and says, “Well, I guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?” He grabs his phone from the bedside table and sends out a quick text to the group chat.

“Watcha doin’?” Wade asks, testing out the waters and gently shifting his limbs, wincing as he goes.

“Letting everyone know you’re awake,” he explains, glancing up from the slew of replies and furrowing his brow. “Stop that, would ya? Just wait for the doctor.”

 

*

 

Wade’s recovery _is_ long and difficult and dangerous. The risk of infection is extremely high and, while Peter only leaves his side for absolute necessities, visitation with their friends is more limited than any of them would have liked. Steve and Bucky come by the most, with their flexible schedules, and are always texting and calling when their schedules or the doctors don’t allow it. The closer he gets to being “fully” healed (a term everyone seems to use pretty loosely for Wade’s tastes) he also notices the fun added benefit of that continuing sensitivity issues and nerve pain that the doctors say might never go away, at least not completely. They’re going to have to wait and see if he ends up needing an inhaler permanently.

So yeah, things suck. But finally the day comes where Wade is “healed” and the doctors are going to remove the bandages for the final time. They’re still not going to let him go home for another day or so (depending on how he does), but they at least let their friends come to see the “big unveiling” as Wade’s been calling it.

Steve, Bucky, Sam, and T’Challa are gathered around Wade’s bed with Peter while the doctor cuts the bandages and unravels them. Peter can’t help the grin that spreads across his face when he sees Wade for the first time. He’s scarred, that’s for sure. Badly. His hair probably won’t grow back according to the doctors, but Peter doesn’t care. He’s sick of the love of his life’s voice coming out of a goddamn mummy.

Wade flashes him an apprehensive smile and holds a hand out. “Help me up?” he asks, though he doesn’t really need it. Not physically anyway.

Peter nods frantically and rushes forward, taking Wade’s hand and helping him out of the bed. He tries his best not to completely crush the other man in a hug, but he’s not sure how well he succeeds. “I love you,” he whispers and presses a kiss to his cheek as he pulls back. It has been  _way_ too long since he’s been able to do that.

“I love you too,” Wade says. He smiles, but his jaw is clenched from his nerves. “Let’s do this.”

Peter leads him over to the full-length mirror and practically feels the other man’s stomach drop into his chest. It’s only for a second, but his smile falters. He laughs, but it’s forced. Wade doesn’t want him to, but Peter catches every agonized tell.

“Who’s this ugly motherfucker?” Wade jokes, forcing out another laugh. “Didn’t think it _could_ get worse than before the fire.”

Peter forces a laugh of his own and rolls his eyes. “Not as ugly as you are stupid,” he teases. “By the way,” he says over his shoulder, “I called it.” Their friends can’t tell just how upset Wade is, and if he doesn’t want to let on to it, Peter will play right along, and this is their dynamic after all. Wade never takes anyone or anything too seriously, at least not when people are looking. Still, though, Peter laces their fingers together out of sight and squeezes gently. When everyone leaves, they’ll talk about it.

“It’s not that bad guys,” Steve says, an amused grin on his face.

“I know a great tattoo guy,” Bucky offers.

“Is there potential for future surgeries to smooth out the skin further?” T’Challa asks the doctor more than anyone else.

“No,” Wade cuts the doctor off. “I don’t wanna end up looking like the bride of Frankenstein. I’d much rather look like an old avocado.”

“Could put you on toast. Hear the kids are big on that,” Sam butts in with a smirk, making everyone laugh.

Peter feels some of the tension release from Wade’s shoulders, and he’s grateful for their friends being here for this, even if it means Wade feels like he has to put on his brave face. He can tell it’s helping him, too.

 

When everyone leaves, though, it’s a different story. Wade slouches against the hospital bed, propped to keep him upright. The façade is gone as he sighs heavily and pulls up the front camera on his phone to use like a mirror. “Welp, I’m hideous now,” he sulks, pouting further as he accidentally takes a selfie.

“You’re not hideous,” Peter says as he slips onto the edge of the bed. “You’ve still got your amazing jawline, those gorgeous eyes, cheekbones to die for, a rockin’ bod- Do you need me to go on?”

Wade rolls his eyes and tosses his phone onto the nearby table. “You’re full of shit Parker,” he says, turning on the television to distract himself.

Peter moves his head so he’s blocking his boyfriend’s view. “You’re not hideous,” he repeats. “And even if you were, so what? You’re not obligated to be pretty. You’re here on this Earth to be so much more. I am in love with you Wade Wilson, no matter what you look like.”

“And you won’t be embarrassed to be seen with me in public?” Wade asks with a scoff. Then he sighs again and sinks further into the mattress. “And all the bullshit you’re going to have to put up with from now on from people- and all my medical shit? You don’t deserve that.”

“Something this traumatic could have happened to either of us at _any_ time,” Peter reminds him. When he leans forward to press a kiss to his lips, Wade shies away, his face scrunching up in a grimace. Not from any pain, but from the fear of what Peter will think when he kisses him properly for the first time.

“You deserve better,” he whispers.

“I  _want_  you,” Peter says softly. “My strong, brave, amazing hero. I don’t give a shit what other people think or do or say. And the medical shit is going to be hard on you, that’s true, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. Of course I will. Like I said, we knew something like this could happen. We’ve had this conversation before Wade, and we agreed we wouldn’t do this. It could have been me  _just_ as easily. Hell, this exact thing even! I was  _feet_ away from molten lava hours before I got the call. Like, literally. Are you trying to tell me you wouldn’t still want to be with me? Because I like to think you would.” He raises his eyebrows skeptically.

“I mean,” Wade teases, scrunching up his face, “like if you lost that pretty face? That’s awful presumptuous of you, isn’t it?”

Peter laughs and taps his shoulder lightly in a mock-smack. “Shut up, I’m trying to be serious here.”

Wade’s expression softens and he nods a little. “Yeah, I know, I know. And you know I would still want to be with you. I don’t give a fuck what you look like,” he says.

“Exactly.” He takes his boyfriend’s face in his hands and presses a soft kiss to his lips. “And I don’t give a fuck either. I love you Wade Wilson, no matter what. And you’re not ugly.”

Wade sighs softly but that smile is still on his face as he replies, “I love you too. Even if you’re lying to me.”

Peter rolls his eyes and laughs quietly. “Shut up,” he says and steals another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!! I really hope you all enjoyed it!!!<3 <3 <3
> 
> Comments, kudos, and the like mean everything to me<3 <3 <3
> 
> And, as always, you can find me on [tumblr](http://worrisomeme.tumblr.com) where we can just chat or you can send me requests/prompts!<3


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